


we feel the rise before the fall

by carrieevew



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrieevew/pseuds/carrieevew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a moment, they didn't much more to do than try and take care of themselves. Clarke takes a moment to spend it with her mother and finally get her hair cut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we feel the rise before the fall

**Author's Note:**

> wow, am i bad at writing summaries, or what?
> 
> i just wrote it last night while watching _Pacific Rim_ (because why study when you can watch it for the seventh time!) and so the title is from _["Drift"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQDx9BYGv4A)_ by RZA and Blake Perlman. 
> 
> enjoy!

Clarke was going through the drawers and shelves in medical when her mother came into the room and asked what she was looking for.

“I’m hoping to find some scissors,” Clarke explained, grabbing a strand of her hair and raising it a little. “I’ve tried to do something with it but I think it’s a lost cause,” she joked with a weak smile.

Abby nodded her head lightly and moved towards one of the cabinets. She opened one of the drawers there and pulled out a pair of large sewing scissors that she’d been using to cut bandages.

“I’m afraid this is the best we can do,” she said, walking towards Clarke. Abby extended her arm a little, but stopped before she handed the scissors to her daughter. “Do you—do you need some help with it?” She asked quietly and a bit unsure.

Clarke smiled at her mother and nodded in affirmation. Things were still quite tense between the two of them. Even disregarding everything that happened in Polis, and that was not an easy thing to do, there was still the fact that they didn’t part on the best of terms and Clarke still left without saying goodbye. It was difficult and painful to talk about, so with the current threat of impending doom hanging over their head, they just— _didn’t_. Abby tried apologising again on their way back to Arkadia but at some point Clarke just stopped her, saying that it’s okay, that they’d find the time to talk later.

But that _later_ never came because once Clarke shared ALIE’s predictions, finding some kind of hope for survival became everyone’s first and only priority. In a week that passed since they had come back home, they were all focused on their tasks, hardly talking about anything else and all those things that remained unsaid were still hanging between the two of them.

This, though, that one small gesture felt like a chance. It was what they used to do when Clarke was little. Abby would sit her down and cut her hair while Clarke told her what happened in classes, what book she just read, anything that Wells had told her… the subject never mattered, Abby still loved listening to her daughter babble about everything and nothing important.

Then Clarke got older and she stopped telling her mother about it all but she’d still come to her every few months to have her hair cut. It was their ritual, the one thing that mother and daughter still did together, even upon realising that they didn’t really have all that much to talk about anymore.

Abby showed her daughter to an adjoining bathroom and told her to take a small stool with her, while she looked for a hairbrush. Well, the bathroom was actually a glorified toilet with a jagged shard of mirror hanging above the sink but after months spent in the woods, Clarke appreciated the tiny bit of luxury.  

Clarke sat with her back to the sink and bent her head backwards as her mother turned on the tap to wash Clarke’s hair. She closed her eyes and relaxed a little when she felt Abby’s fingers combing gently through all the knots, washing the hair with some sort of a scented soap. Clarke hummed when Abby massaged her scalp and rinsed the soap out. She grabbed a towel to dry her hair and then brushed it, as she turned around to face the mirror.

“How long do you want them?” Abby asked, grabbing the scissors and Clarke hesitated. She’d been wearing her hair long practically her entire life but she was sick and tired of all the tangles she was carrying around. She didn’t like the way it made her feel, either. Her hair and clothes, it was all too heavy, almost armour-like; it had been like a disguise and she’d never been comfortable in it. And now, since coming back home, she didn’t want to feel like she was hiding anymore.

“Just enough to tie it up,” she answered finally, gesturing around her shoulders.

Abby combed her fingers through Clarke’s hair one more time before she started cutting. She made quick cuts, checking if she was going even enough and Clarke watched her mother work in the mirror. She took a deep breath and Abby stopped for a moment, catching her daughter’s gaze in the mirror, smiling at her and Clarke smiled back, weakly.

“Do you remember when you were five and decided you wanted to have bangs, so you took Dad’s scissors and cut it yourself?” Abby asked, sounding thoughtful, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards slightly, as the memory came back to her.

“Mostly I remember the picture that Dad took and you kept bringing up every chance you got.” Clarke smirked a tiny bit.

“I had to cut that bangs this short,” Abby gestured, leaving about two inches between her thumb and forefinger, “to make it even and it would stick out of your forehead for _weeks_ before it grew back.” She let out a quiet chuckle, a little shaky and unsure, and Clarke smiled a little, too, her eyes cast down. She felt her mother brush her shoulders and looked up at her.

It was a good memory to remember, she thought, a happy one. It was hard to think about her father and how easy things used to be before it all went to shit but recently, Clarke had been realising that it was hurting just a little less every time she thought back to their lives on the Ark. She worried a little that with all the loss, she was growing cold and distant, frigid even. Her shoulders slumped a bit.

A few minutes later, Abby was done. She tucked a couple strands behind Clarke’s ears, twirling the rest into gentle curls, leaving them to dry completely.

Clarke got up from the stool and turned around, standing face to face with her mother.

“There she is.” Abby put her hand on Clarke’s cheek, brushing her thumb across her face. “My beautiful baby girl.” She whispered and Clarke felt her eyes burning with tears. She blinked a few times to hold it back but it didn’t help, a few of them escaping down her face. She bit on her lower lip to stop it from trembling and more tears flew.

“Honey,” Abby pulled Clarke into a hug and she put her arms around her mother, pressing her face against her shoulder.

“Oh, mom,” Clarke whined into the crook of Abby’s neck and hugged her even tighter. She was fully crying now, her body shaking with sobs as Abby rubbed her back with on hand, the other curled gently around Clarke’s neck. She shushed and rocked her gently and Clarke was holding on to her for dear life. “Mom, I—”

“It’s okay, sweetie, I know,” Abby kept telling her, and finally, Clarke calmed down. She moved away a bit and brushed away the tears from her face. She sniffled and sent her mother a tiny, pained smile.

“It’s okay, love, everything is going to be alright.” Abby squeezed Clarke’s shoulders.

“I don’t think so.” Clarke shook her head but Abby moved her hands back to Clarke’s face and looked straight into her eyes.

“We’ll be fine.” She said, voice sure and strong and Clarke really wanted to believe her.

 

***

 

Clarke was half-hidden inside a medicine cabinet, taking inventory of their supplies, when she heard someone coming in behind her.

“Hey, have you seen Cl—” she heard Bellamy ask but he paused when she turned around and showed herself to him. “Clarke. Hi. You look—” he hesitated, “different.”

She ran a hand through her hair, now curling around her face, only reaching her chin.

“Yeah, I had it—my mom cut it.”

“It’s, um, you look nice.” Bellamy cleared his throat and looked away from Clarke. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks and she averted her gaze as well, not expecting a compliment.

They looked back at each other but stayed silent, just—looking. A ghost of a smile flew across Clarke’s face.

They stood like that for a long heartbeat until a dulled sound of something hitting the metal floor coming from afar shook them from it, almost making them jump. Clarke recovered first, asking “You were looking for me, did you want something…?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Raven wants to show us something. And she’s been fighting with Roan for a while now so we should probably get there before she throws something at his head. Again.”

Clarke couldn’t fight the smile at the thought of her friend and the Ice King, constantly arguing. They didn’t plan on talking to the Grounders until they were sure where they were standing but the choice was made for them when Raven and Monty discovered one of the nuclear plants was located right there, in the middle of Azgeda territory, and it had to be checked on. They needed Roan’s help, or at the very least his permission to go in, and as a result, he and Raven had spent the last couple of days trying to figure out the best way to go.

“Is she fighting him on which road we’re supposed to take? Because it is his land after all, he does know it better than we do.”

“Oh, no,” Bellamy smirked at her, sounding quite amused. “They’ve already agreed that they agree on the road. They’re arguing over who came up with it first,” he explained and Clarke snorted, not doubting that for a second. Raven and Roan seemed to enjoyed their arguments like it was a sport.

She joined Bellamy by the door and he let her out first, putting his hand gently on the small of his back, leading her out of medical. His hand was gone almost as quickly as it appeared there but it left a warm feeling in her body.

They walked in silence almost the whole way but as the door of Raven’s workshop appeared in front of them, Clarke slowed down. Bellamy matched her pace almost immediately and cast a glance at her.

“You’ll want go there, won’t you?” she asked quietly, looking straight ahead. Only more silence answered her but she didn’t really expect anything else, nor did she need it. As soon as they heard that there was a mission to complete, a single look at Bellamy told her that he’d be the first person out the door, going whenever he was needed. She sighed weakly. “I wish you didn’t.” She said it so quietly, almost a whisper, that she wasn’t sure he even heard her.

But he did.

“Yes,” he said simply, finally. “Yes, I’m going. But it’s not like you planned on staying behind, eh?”

Well, he had her there. She didn’t like the idea of sending anyone more than it was absolutely necessary into what was still basically enemy territory, so she planned on volunteering herself instead. And she was rather conflicted about having Bellamy on that journey with her.

He was still recovering from all the abuse his body endured over the last weeks. The bruises on his face and neck only just started to fade and all the cuts were still scabbed and sensitive, she knew. Clarke wanted him to stay in Arkadia, where he was vaguely safe but on the other hand, having him by her side, knowing that he’d have her back did help. It made her just a little bit more brave, more sure of herself and for that, she selfishly wanted him to come.

She grimaced at him in a lieu of responding. He knew. He always knew.

The sound of raised voices coming from Raven’s workshop rushed them on. Raven moved on to name-calling and that was usually the last step before tools started flying, so Bellamy and Clarke hurried in to mediate.

As much as they could.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! remember that feedback is life :)
> 
> as always, you can find me on tumblr @[carrieeve](http://carrieeve.tumblr.com). come and say hi! :)


End file.
